


The Surest Recipe

by out_there



Category: Sports Night
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-12
Updated: 2005-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/pseuds/out_there
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"A mixture of admiration and pity is one of the surest recipes for affection."</i> Andre Maurois</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Surest Recipe

**Author's Note:**

> I started with the idea of a slashy mini-epic. It turned out to be a not-actually-epic and not-actually-slashy fic, but I love it regardless. Go figure. Big thanks to [](http://meadowlion.livejournal.com/profile)[**meadowlion**](http://meadowlion.livejournal.com/) for careful betaing.

One of the things Dan loves about Casey is his lack of coordination. It's an odd thing to find endearing, but it's true. For a guy who voluntarily did gymnastics for years, Casey's a klutz. Every time he leaves the office, there's a cacophony of noise as Casey bumps into things, or closes doors and drawers with a little too much force.

Maybe klutz is a bit harsh. It's not that Casey has no grace. Rather, it's that Casey gets distracted. He walks across the studio, reading a report, and trips over his own feet. He gets caught up in a debate and walks into someone's desk. It's not even restricted to when Casey's standing.

Dan has watched Casey write his script and reach over for his cup of coffee, without looking up. Casey absent-mindedly knocks the cup over and then suddenly panics, grabbing at papers and standing up so fast his chair clatters to the floor. Then, there's Casey's mad dash for their box of tissues and his sheepish expression as he mops up the mess.

In a way, it's kind of sad, almost pathetic that a grown man can do this every few weeks and still forget to _look_ when he reaches. Of course, it's also really damn funny.

Dan's always had an appreciation of slapstick humor. He remembers watching Charlie Chaplin and the Three Stooges as a kid, laughing with David and Sam, while their sister just rolled her eyes and muttered, "Boys!" as if your sense of humor was predetermined by your gender.

Judging by the laughter in the conference room over Casey's latest display of clumsiness, it's pretty clear that isn't true. Kim's laughing just as loudly as Dave, and Natalie and Jeremy are both snickering as they try to look sympathetic.

This latest disaster was caused by Casey's watch being ten minutes slow. He mentioned the delay to Dan when he got in at midday, but Casey apparently has forgotten about it by the two o'clock rundown. At nine minutes past two, he comes dashing through the conference room door and somehow miscalculates the width of the doorway. He bangs his shoulder against the wall with a force that makes the glass walls shudder -- and makes Dan thankful the glass in here is so thick -- but that sudden stop in momentum also makes Casey stumble and fall to his knees, managing to head-butt Dana as he does so and making them both yelp in pain. Sometimes, Dan thinks, Casey is a walking catastrophe.

Dan's laughing too hard to speak, but Jeremy gets his sniggers under control quickly. "Are you alright, Casey?" Casey just groans and nods, kneeling on the floor.

"Dana?" Natalie asks through her giggles.

"No, I'm not," Dana grits out, and when she looks up, there are tears in her eyes. Rubbing the back of her head, Dana grimaces. "That really hurt, Casey."

"Rundown's postponed for an hour," Natalie announces to the amused crowd. Natalie takes Dana by the arm and helps her to stand. Jeremy quickly ducks in and takes Dana's other arm. "Come on. Jeremy will get you some ice."

"And me?" Casey asks weakly, making no move to get off the floor.

"If Dan can get you back to your office in one piece," Natalie replies, watching Dan pull Casey upright.

Casey touches his forehead gingerly. "Thanks." While Jeremy goes in search of ice, Dan walks Casey across the bullpen.

"You okay?" Dan asks as Casey sprawls on their couch.

Casey glares at him. "I'm in pain."

"Well, if you walk into a wall and then head-butt your boss, you probably will be." Dan grins and pulls the armchair close to the couch. "Are you going to be okay?"

Casey scrunches his eyes and nods. "I'll be fine. But right now"

"Lots of pain?" Dan suggests.

"Big headache." Casey grimaces and closes his eyes. "About the size of Texas."

They're interrupted by a quick rapping on their glass wall. It's Jeremy holding a bag of ice and one of those shockingly green Draft Day T-shirts. There always seems to be a few sitting around the office somewhere. "I found the ice."

Casey doesn't open his eyes, but manages to groan.

Dan stands up since Casey obviously won't. "Thanks."

A small frown forms between Jeremy's brows. "Is Casey okay?"

"I'm in pain," Casey whines loudly, resting his head in his hands.

"He'll be fine." Dan takes the ice out of Jeremy's hand. "It's just a headache."

Jeremy nods. "Then I'd better get back to Dana."

As Jeremy walks away, Dan wraps the ice inside the T-shirt and returns to the couch. He presses the cold fabric against Casey's forehead and Casey hisses, pulling away.

"There's a noticeable bump already, Casey. If you don't want to look like the Elephant Man," Dan says, shoving the bundle of T-shirt and ice at Casey, "use the ice."

Casey grudgingly holds it against his forehead. "Fine."

"Plus, it'll help deal with that overwhelming pain." Dan notices Casey's handwritten notes sitting on the desk. "Your script finished?"

Casey shakes his head and then stops with a groan. "Most of it."

Dan looks over it, spotting the missing features. "Do you want me to finish it?"

"Nah." Casey sighs wearily. "I'll do it later."

"Sure," Dan says and sits at the desk to work on his own script.

"But if this headache hasn't lifted in an hour, I'll take you up on that offer." Casey throws his legs over the end of the couch and lies down with an arm drawn over his eyes.

Dan takes that as his cue to go and review the tapes.

He grabs the stack of tapes from his desk, but when he gets to the editing room, Jeremy and Natalie are sitting on the couch. "Am I disturbing something?" he asks, popping his head around the doorway.

Jeremy shakes his head. "Not really."

Dan waves the tapes around and explains. "Just wanted to check the Dodgers game."

"Come on in," Natalie says with a quick nod of her head. "I can't believe Casey's such a klutz."

Dan rolls his eyes. "He's not a klutz."

"Did you see that incredible display of clumsiness? Oh, wait," Natalie pauses dramatically, "I know you did. I heard you laughing."

"I'm not denying that he can be clumsy. I'm just saying that it's not an all-the-time thing." Dan shrugs and wonders how he got conned into defending Casey. Casey would say it's simply a case of ' _no one hits my little brother but me_ '. Dan thinks it's more likely embarrassment by association. "He gets distracted."

Jeremy snorts. "That implies that there are times when he's graceful. I don't think I've witnessed that."

Natalie's mockery is far more direct. "When is Casey not clumsy?"

Dan lets out a long sigh as he thinks about it. "He plays squash."

Jeremy smirks. "That doesn't make him graceful."

"Yeah. Jeremy plays tennis, so that doesn't prove anything," Natalie crows, and then sees her boyfriend's frown. "Sorry, honey, but you're not graceful. You're sweet, and cute, and really smart, but not graceful." She smiles hopefully at him, and he nods resignedly. That's the best apology he's going to get.

"Casey's good at squash." Dan isn't willing to give up his point yet. He feels obliged to defend Casey's honor, such as it is.

Natalie shrugs and shakes her head. "How would you know, Dan? You don't play squash."

"I don't play squash, because if I played, I'd have to play Casey. I like to stick to games that I, well, have a chance of winning."

Jeremy's eyebrows rise skeptically. "He's good?"

"He's really good, which is why I gave up trying to play." It's true, too. Casey on the squash courts is totally different from Casey tripping over his own feet. Instead of worrying about witty comments or making sense of three different things at once, Casey completely focuses on that tiny little ball and the racquet in his hands. Long limbs, which sometimes seem lanky, are long and powerful on the court. It's not a matter of height. The height difference between them is barely two inches. It's all about stretch. Casey stretches for the ball, his legs straining that extra inch and his arm pulling back just far enough to really thump the ball. "It's embarrassing to be so totally thrashed every time."

Natalie sighs. "Okay, so he has moments of not being a total klutz."

"It makes sense. Otherwise, how would he work in live television?" Jeremy asks mildly with an amused gleam in his eyes.

Dan grins. "Good point." Natalie glares at Jeremy, and Dan can see that any minute now, those two are going to start fighting or making out. "And on that note, I'm going to go and make sure he hasn't tripped over anyone else."

He passes Kim on his way back to their office. With one hand on her hip, she rolls her eyes and says, "What a baby."

"Casey giving you trouble?"

"Nothing I can't handle," she replies with a smirk, sitting down at her desk.

Dan chuckles. There's very little Kim can't handle. "I'll deal with him." Walking into their office, he's glad to see that Casey is sitting up on the couch, slowly typing on the laptop. It's a vast improvement from the dying swan act. "I hear you're giving our mock-secretary a hard time."

Casey shrugs. "She said I was clumsy."

Dan shoots Casey a disbelieving stare. "You are clumsy."

"I can be graceful," Casey whines.

"When?" Dan flops into the armchair, and Casey stares at him in annoyance.

"When I'm being graceful," Casey finishes lamely.

Dan sniggers. "Sure, Casey. And, back to the real world, how much of that script have you done?"

"Just missing the Knicks," Casey replies distractedly, and then glares at Dan. "I can be graceful."

"When? I just want a little proof."

Casey turns back to the stats in front of him and starts typing. "I can dance."

"Not really."

Casey sits up tall, squinting at Dan. "Yes, I can."

"I've seen you. You're not terrible, but you're not great, Casey." Dan stretches his neck to the side. "You've got that whole uptight white guy vibe."

Casey scowls. "That's not true."

"Yeah, it is." Dan sits down, and looks over his own script. He's got time to check the tapes later. "You're no John Travolta."

Casey rolls his eyes. "Not disco dancing. I can ballroom dance."

That's more interesting than reading over familiar jokes. "Really?"

Casey nods and counts out on his fingers. "I can waltz, I can tango. I have a mean foxtrot. And," he adds, with a pleased expression, "my quickstep has been considered impressive."

Dan chortles. "And amusing, when you refer to it as _your_ quickstep."

"You've seen me ballroom dance."

Dan snorts. "When? How many places do we go together that involve ballroom dancing?"

Casey stares at him as if it's obvious. "My wedding reception?"

Dan thinks about it. He remembers more about the actual wedding than the reception. "Was that before or after the speeches that ate a year of my life?"

"After."

"In that case, I think I missed it."

"How did you miss it?"

"I spent most of my time out back, necking with one of the bridesmaids." Dan grins at the memory, and Casey huffs.

"I _can_ dance."

"Sure you can, Casey."

"I can prove it. Come on," Casey declares and strides out of their office. Dan follows him with a sense of horrified fascination. "Can anyone here ballroom dance?"

There are a lot of shaking heads, but Chris raises his hand. "I can."

"Okay, let me specify," Casey says, waving Chris's hand down. "Can any of the women here ballroom dance? Kim? Natalie?" The both shake their heads, and Casey turns to Dana. "Dana?"

"Yeah," Dana admits with an uncomfortable shrug.

"You learned for a debutante ball, didn't you?" Casey asks mockingly.

Dana's mouth is stuck halfway between a smile and a sneer. "So?"

From Casey's expression, Dan cringes and knows Casey's about to say something sarcastic. But Casey surprises him by shaking his head and saying, "Dance with me, Dana."

"What?"

"Dance with me. I'm proving to Dan that I can dance."

Dana raises her shapely brows and stares at Casey. "Why?"

Natalie snickers. "Are you trying to convince him to go to prom with you?"

"I'm trying to let him down lightly. I'm already going with one of the cheerleaders," Dan shoots back at her.

Casey rolls his eyes. "I'm trying to prove that I'm graceful. I have grace. And, I can ballroom dance."

"You don't have grace," Dana points out with a sharp smile.

Casey raises his arms wide. "I do have grace."

"You don't have grace, Casey, and I have a bump on the back of my head to prove it."

"Fine," Casey huffs and walks back to their office.

"You don't have grace!" Dana calls out after them as Casey closes their door behind them.

All in all, Dan is thoroughly amused by the exchange, but by final rundown, he wishes that Dana had just danced with Casey.

Every twenty minutes for the rest of the day, Casey stopped working on his script to argue that he was graceful. Only Dana's no-nonsense frown stopped the subject from popping up in either the postponed two o'clock rundown or the later on-schedule meetings. When push came to shove -- and that was a phrase that no one was using today -- it was always a healthy fear of Dana that kept the show together. But that didn't keep Casey from spending all of his free time trying to convince Dan of his supposed agility.

There are only so many times you can hear the exact same argument without going crazy, and by five minutes to air, Dan decides the smartest thing is to give up the fight. "Fine, Casey. You are graceful. You have grace. You are grace personified."

Casey glares at him. "You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not," Dan says, plastering on his most encouraging smile. It usually works on Casey.

"You're just saying that to get me to shut up."

"Will it work?"

"No," Casey replies curtly but doesn't mention it again until the next C-break. "I am graceful."

Dan thinks about replying and realizes there's no point. He lets his head fall against their desk, and Dana replies for him. "No, you're not. You have no grace and no coordination. Now give it a rest, Casey."

"I have co-ordination," Casey states, staring at the monitor. "I can juggle."

"Juggle?" Natalie asks, and Dan wishes that she hadn't.

Casey grins. "Bring me a couple of balls, and I'll show you."

"We're a sports _show_ , Casey. We don't have balls," Dana announces over the PA. Half of the studio starts sniggering, and she amends, "Lying around! We don't have _sporting_ balls just lying around."

Dan's still laughing when Jeremy pipes up. "Would tennis balls do? I have some in my drawer."

Casey nods. "They'd be fine."

The next C-break, Jeremy comes out with four tennis balls in his arms.

"I thought they came three to a packet?" Dan asks as Jeremy dumps them on the anchor desk.

Jeremy shrugs. "I had a spare."

"Okay," Casey says slowly as he stands up with a ball in each hand. "I haven't done this for a while, so I might be a little rusty."

Dan smirks. "You're proving your grace and warning us you might be _rusty_?" Casey shoots him an annoyed glare and starts juggling with his right hand. "Throwing a ball up and down? I can do that, Casey."

"Shh!" Jeremy says, watching as Casey throws the ball from his left hand into his right, keeps the one-handed rhythm with the two green balls. Keeping his right hand moving, Casey glances down and picks up the other two balls with his left. He throws one over to his right, and the rhythm changes slightly to incorporate the third ball.

"Okay, I can't do that," Dan concedes. Casey juggles three balls in his right hand and then smoothly picks up the fourth ball and turns it into two-handed juggling.

Casey smiles, glancing away from his hands briefly. "The hard part is starting and stopping. Once you've got them going, it's easy." The circle of balls spins higher and faster as Dan watches it. Then the circle turns into a wide oval, and the pattern seamlessly shifts to a sideways figure eight, picking up speed with each throw. It's a pale green ghost of an eight, and Dan has no idea how Casey's actually doing it.

"Thirty seconds to air time," Chris announces, and Casey slows the rhythm and then stops, catching two balls in each hand. As Jeremy grabs the balls and dashes back to the control room, Casey smoothes his jacket and sits down.

"That was really cool." Dan knows that Casey can hear just how impressed he is.

Casey grins smugly. "I have grace?"

Laughing, Dan nods. "I will be the first to admit that, under certain circumstances, you are a very graceful and coordinated man." It's not much of an acknowledgement, but it makes Casey beam as the cameras come alive. Most of the broadcast goes smoothly, except for forty-five empty seconds in the thirties but they're saved by Jeremy offering a quick fill for Dan.

"In Dancesport news, the American Star Ball concluded today, and we'd like to congratulate James Marks and Vicky Englund, who won the Professional Open thanks to their strong partner-work and graceful turns. Or so I've been told. I don't actually know how to ballroom dance, so I wouldn't know. But Casey here is well-known for his impressive quickstep and has assured me that their turns were, in fact, very graceful."

Shuffling his script, Casey stares down at the desk and grins widely. It's the way Casey grins when he's really pleased about something, all white, square teeth and apple cheeks. It's sweet, but it makes Casey look goofy as hell. Some day, Dan needs to point out to Casey that ducking his head really doesn't hide that grin from the cameras. Casey still looks goofy and pleased; it just makes him look oddly shy as well. Endearing as it is, it's probably not the image that Casey's trying to portray.

But that's the reason Dan hasn't pointed it out yet. If he did, Casey would probably stop doing it.

They almost get to the end of the show without any more adlibbing, but in the last C-break Dana groans over the PA. "Guys, we're forty short in the end credits. Stretch it for a bit."

"Sure, Dana," Casey says, grabbing his pen and scribbling a few extra lines on the back of his script. Wheeling his chair closer to Dan, he slides the page across the desk. Reading it, Dan grins and nods as Casey returns his chair to the proper broadcasting position.

Casey smiles at camera two. "Thank you, Kelly." On the screen, Kelly Kirkpatrick nods. "And that's it for tonight's show. I'm Casey McCall, with Dan Rydell, and you've been watching _Sports Night_ on CSC. Before you go, we'd just like to remind you that I've got rhythm."

"And I've got music," Dan adds dryly. "Well, actually..." He pauses and looks at Casey. It's the perfect alley-oop pass.

Turning to him, Casey hams it up for the cameras with a priceless concerned look. After a silent second, he swallows and turns back to the screen. "Actually, we don't."

Dan grins and follows with, "But we do have the highlights from the Lakers game, the latest rumors about the upcoming draft picks and an interview with the newest addition to the Mets, so we'll see you tomorrow night."

As the camera lights blink out, Dan pulls off his mike and heads into the control room. Casey's only a few steps behind. Pushing the door open, they're met by Dana's slightly shocked giggles. "Rhythm and music? We're a sports show, and you guys are promoting your vaudeville act?"

Casey grins. "You enjoy a good musical, Dana. We thought you'd appreciate it."

"I'm sure Isaac enjoyed it," Dan says as Isaac walks into the control room.

Isaac responds by singing. "I've got my girl, who could ask for anything more?"

"Knew you'd get the reference, Isaac."

"It's Gershwin. Of course I'd get the reference." Isaac rolls his eyes, but Dan hears the smile in his voice.

They were just a few throwaway lines, a minute or so of filler, and Dan didn't think about it again until he was opening his fan mail a week later. He had to read over the letter twice just to be sure he read it right.

Casey looks up, his square forehead furrowed. "What are you sniggering about?"

"I have... interesting fans."

Casey laughs. "I've read some of your fan mail. Interesting is an understatement."

"Are you insulting my fan base?" Dan asks, sitting up.

"I'm commending them for their lack of shame."

Dan snorts. "They may be shameless, but they're organized. They do maintain a fairly impressive website."

"Let's not start that again." Casey flops onto the couch.

"Start what?"

"Start gloating over your fan club. There's a reason why Dana banned you from that site."

"She said my head would swell so much that I wouldn't get through a doorway. I don't think she was being literal."

Casey tilts his head and squints at Dan. "I'm not so sure about that. I mean, your head is pretty big to start with. It's probably a genuine concern."

Dan grabs the object closest to hand, a golf ball sitting on the desk, and throws it at Casey. Casey ducks to the side, and the ball is lost in the no man's land behind the couch.

Casey smirks. "Nice aim."

"Screw you," he replies affectionately, and sits down at the desk and starts to type.

"What are you doing?" Casey asks, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I'm logging on to my website," Dan replies as he enters the URL and tries to remember what his password was. When he first received mail from the _Dan Rydell Fanclub_ , he was surprised and just a little worried. But they were polite and organized, and when the website went online, they sent him a very cordial letter describing the site and asking for his approval.

Admittedly, that led to several weeks of crowing about the fact that he had a website and a lot of hours of watching the message board with a great deal of amusement. And frequent posting. In fact, he was in the middle of answering one of the world's oldest questions (vanilla or chocolate) when Dana came in and banned him from the site.

He whined about it, but Dana was been firm. Apparently, while Dan was spending hours talking to people via a computer screen, Casey was spending hours driving everyone else crazy. Dana declared that they couldn't go on like this, with her, Natalie and Jeremy ducking for cover every time Casey wandered around bored. That Casey needed to go back to driving Dan crazy so that everybody else could do their jobs. It was for the good of the show.

So, Dan posted nicely to the site, was charming and thanked them for their work, and told them Casey was driving everyone nuts without Dan's sparkling conversation. In reality, the supposed banning had nothing to do with the size of Dan's head, regardless of what Casey says.

"Oh, no," Casey says and stops Dan typing by physically mashing Dan's fingertips against the keyboard. _laksdjfoiwe_ comes up across the screen; it sounds vaguely Swedish to Dan. "Dana made me promise to make sure you didn't go on there again."

"She made you promise?" Dan looks at Casey in pure disbelief. "Casey, the amount that you know about the Internet could fit inside a thimble."

Casey frowns at him. "Hey..."

"Okay, a large thimble, but still. How were you going to stop me logging on?" Dan assumes it doesn't rely on Casey spending all of his time with his hands holding Dan's against the keyboard. That would make it hard to write their scripts.

"By keeping you distracted?" Casey grins hopefully. Dan snorts. "It seemed like a good plan at the time."

"And we know all about your remarkable planning abilities," Dan says sarcastically, and Casey pulls his hands back. However, he keeps looking over Dan's shoulder. Dan sighs. "Did Dana say why you had to play Net Nanny?"

Casey almost winces. "Not really." That sounds more like a question than a statement.

Dan spins his chair around to fully face Casey. "What did she say?"

"Just... okay, you have a history, Dan. You have a bad history with interviews and saying things that shouldn't be said."

"And Dana told you to look over my shoulder and make sure I didn't type anything too defamatory?"

"She just... wanted me to keep an eye on you," Casey says, holding his hands up in a placating way.

"I don't need to be censored," Dan says coldly. "I'm not going to embarrass you and Dana if I'm left alone for five minutes."

"I didn't say you would, Dan." Casey sighs. "I just--"

Dan forces his voice to be civil. "Did the entire office get together to discuss how I should be watched at all times?"

"No." Casey shakes his head. "It wasn't like that. Dana wasn't trying to embarrass you. She just took me aside and said I should be spending a little more time with you," Casey says, watching him closely.

"She just... she only asked you?" That doesn't sound right. If Dana has a concern, her first port of call is usually Natalie, not Casey.

"Just me. She was just worried that you'd say something that you'd regret later and we wouldn't be able to help." Casey smiles gently.

Dan feels his own smile start to form. "And the best way for you to be a good friend is to keep me distracted from the site?"

Casey nods in relief. "Yeah."

Dan has to concentrate on not grinning. There are times when he doesn't give Dana enough credit. Casey may have been driving everyone crazy, but she pulled the trump card. It's far easier to get Casey to focus on being a good friend than to make him believe that he's annoying everyone around him.

Casey looks at him, his eyes shadowed with concern. "Danny? Are we okay?"

"We're fine," Dan says and manages to compose a straight face while he thinks of a way to explain his lack of outrage. "It's a matter of motivation. You weren't doing it because you didn't trust me. You did it because you cared. Totally different things."

Casey nods happily, and Jeremy sticks his head around the door. "Did you guys forget we usually have a rundown meeting now?"

"Actually," Dan says, looking up at the clock, "yeah."

Jeremy stares at him, but the effect is undermined by his amused grin. "Just so you know, the rest of us haven't."

"In that case, we should probably go." Casey stands up, and Dan gathers his script notes.

"Probably," Dan agrees, following them to the conference room.

The rundown meeting went as all rundown meetings go: slightly disorganized, kind of random and surprisingly efficient by the end. They planned the twenties and thirties, left room in the forties for the basketball results and were almost finished when Dan asked, "Can I thank my fans on air?"

Dana spears him with a sharp look. "What for?"

"Good taste?"

"No," Dana says firmly, her brows lowered behind the light blonde fringe.

"They sent me a present. I was taught to say thank you when I receive a gift." Dan grins and leans back in his chair.

"First of all, I've seen you on your birthday. You don't thank people so much as shamelessly beg for more."

Casey barks out a surprised laugh, and Dan glares at him. "You're not any better, Casey."

Casey looks wounded. "I accept gifts very graciously."

"You brag," Natalie states with a toss of her dark hair.

Casey almost pouts. "No, I don't."

"You do." Natalie nods as if agreeing with herself. "What did you get for your last birthday?"

Casey smiles. It's the smile that Dan secretly thinks of as Casey's _proud-dad smile_ because it's the way he always smiles at Charlie. "Last year, Charlie gave me a Paul Simon CD, Dan gave me--"

Dana holds up a hand. "Don't recite the list."

"The list?" Casey looks confused.

Dana frowns and clears her throat. "The list of every present you received."

"I don't have a list."

"You do. Every year you walk around reciting the list of presents you received, and show off about how much people gave you. You brag."

"I don't brag."

"You keep a list," Dana points out.

"I like to remember to thank people." Casey leans forward in his chair. "I was told it's the polite thing to do."

"It's not the list itself that makes it bragging," Natalie chimes in. "It's the way you keep reciting it to people."

"I don't recite--"

"Jeremy, what does Casey say every time he gets another gift?" Dana asks sweetly, but Jeremy just shakes his head, holding his hands up in supplication. She huffs. "Fine. Natalie?"

Natalie lowers her voice, far deeper than Casey's actually is. "Hey, look, Gerald just got me a penguin. Isn't it great? And, Charlie got me a CD, and Dan got me Mets tickets, and my Mom got me socks." There's a light sniggering in the conference room as everyone recognizes Natalie's surprisingly accurate imitation. The only person not laughing is Casey. Natalie shakes the hair out of her eyes and continues in a more normal tone of voice. "Every time you get a new present, you have to tell us all the other ones you've got."

"That argument is full of logical fallacies." Casey shakes his head. "Firstly, I don't know anyone called Gerald. Secondly, why would I want a penguin?"

"You're a strange man," Dana says with a grin. "We've given up trying to understand you."

Casey waves away her comment. "Thirdly, Dan would never give me Mets tickets."

"You wouldn't?" Natalie asks, turning to Dan in surprise.

"Nope." Dan shakes his head. "Wouldn't waste my money on a team I don't support."

"Really?"

"It's a long-standing agreement between me and Casey. I won't buy him Mets tickets, he won't buy me Orioles tickets."

Jeremy's brows draw together above the dark frames of his glasses. "Why?"

"Because Dan is a frugal man cursed with bad taste," Casey replies smugly. Dan considers denying it, but he knows it's not worth the effort.

Dana sighs. "Finished, Casey?"

"No." Casey holds up a hand decisively. "My mother doesn't buy me socks. She doesn't buy my clothes for me."

"She bought you a shirt," Kim points out helpfully.

"And slippers," Elliott adds.

"And that blue sweater," Natalie offers.

"Okay, yes, she gives me clothes, but she doesn't give me underwear," Casey says, sending his arm sailing through the air in a wide arc. "She doesn't buy my socks!"

"No. Those stylish argyle babies are all picked out by Casey himself," Dan says snidely.

Dana snickers. "Okay, your mom doesn't buy your socks, but that doesn't change the fact that you brag."

"I don't brag!"

"Fine, Sir Bragsalot."

Casey stares at Dana. "Sir Bragsalot?"

"It's your new nickname," Dana replies with a grin and then pushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Looking at the rundown, she says, "We still need the NASCAR thing for the fifties, and that's all. So, this meeting's finished." Dana stands up and starts gathering her notes.

Dan raises his hand. "Dana?"

"Are you in the third grade, Dan?"

He blinks at Dana. "No."

"Do I look like your third grade teacher? If not, take you hand down."

Pulling his hand down, Dan takes a long look at Dana. "There is a certain resemblance to my fifth grade teacher."

Dana raises an eyebrow. "Really?" she asks coldly.

Dan nods. "Yeah. I had a huge crush on her. I still say she was far too glamorous for a teacher." Charm doesn't always work on Dana, but when it does, she smiles so sweetly it's hard to believe how professionally intimidating she can be.

"Okay," Dana says, and her bright smile makes her look ten years younger. "What did you want?"

"I want to thank my fans on air."

Dana sighs and sits back down. "Why?"

"They're teaching me to dance." Dan grins smugly.

"All of them?" Jeremy asks with a confused frown, and Natalie laughs.

"No. But it's a group effort."

"Group effort?" Jeremy pushes up his glasses. "How?"

"They contributed funds and bought me dancing lessons."

"You could probably use them," Natalie says with a smirk.

Dan rolls his eyes. "Ballroom dancing lessons."

"Well, you could definitely use those," Dana says sincerely.

"How often do people ballroom dance?" Jeremy asks the room in general. Beside him, Elliott shares a glance with Will and shrugs.

"I..." Dana frowns. "Okay, I don't ballroom dance often. But... it's highly romantic if you're with a guy who does."

Natalie looks thoughtful. "Have you ever dated someone who can?"

"Well, Gordon could dance... but not well," Dana says slowly. "So... not really."

"But you still think Dan should learn?" Casey asks, smirking at Dan.

"It's highly romantic."

"So can I thank them?" Dan asks hopefully.

Dana nods, standing up. "Do it in the fifties. You and Sir Bragsalot can work it into your sign off."

"Cool," Dan says and watches the rest of the staff follow Dana out. Pretty soon, it's just Casey and him sitting at the table.

"That means we'll have to rewrite the farewell," Casey says after a minute of silence.

Dan rolls his eyes. "Consider it a chance to improve and rise above the flaws of the earlier version."

Casey stands up. "I liked the earlier version." He takes a step, but trips over a chair leg and ends up stumbling into Dan. Together, with Casey's head against his shoulders and Dan flailing for balance, they totter but don't quite fall.

"I didn't see that chair leg," Casey mumbles.

"I guessed." Casey steps back with a sheepish expression, and Dan has to laugh. "You're just lucky I'm here to catch you."

Casey shrugs and gingerly picks his way around the table. "Like you've got anything better to do."

Dan really can't deny that.


End file.
